Striving For Perfection Fucks Up Everything

I’m the worst cunt in the world

No one is worse than me.

For my next bride,

I shall marry the Queen of She

Ba (Academy presents her majesty.

Nominee gushes.

Audience applauds exhaustively.)

She will manhandle me,

Liquor on her breath,

Feathers framing vagina.

Inflamed blossoms drenching submissions

She told me to delete

The photographs,

Even though there were many

Caught her beauty in amazing graces.

She hated me

For putting up so little struggle,

Obliterating her splendor

Indifferently.

I wanted to prove

Deserving of her love.

she dilly-dallied, distracted.

I cried pitifully, “Where’s my girlfriend?”

Chain of events to nothingness

My desolate existence

One deficit after another

Honed to fragile cutting-edge.

I wanted her to pleasure me

With subtle painful tinge.

She brilliantly found fault

Every conceivable way to blame.

She accused, “you fiddle in noodle factory.”

She was the true artist,

Dissatisfied with the sound

Of my heart beating.

You want to play hardball with the big boys?

You better show up with bulging intelligent creativity.

You complain about

Every infinitesimal gargantuan thing.

Nothing makes you happy.

I will always love you no

Matter how impossible.

Looking back,

You were an impossible chance.

Ophelia Reconfigured - Our Salon

Ophelia Reconfigured - Our Salon

In Lieu of the Princess's Departure

In search of what we do not know

desire what we cannot know

she seeks strange desires inflames.

Strange is the only life I’ve known.

When I was young

I thought for sure

Some girl would marry me

And we’d be happy.

I didn’t know

evils in this world,

tasks of aging disease death.

Under duress I vowed

to be good boy

Most of the time I’m scared.

Life is risky. Everyone

is so treacherous

including myself.

I read somewhere

or someone once told me

poets originate from jesters jokers

hawking insults for king's amusement.

Undress

Before I speak another word

Reveal yourself

Will you swear you’re true faithful devoted

never cheated on a boyfriend

promise to marry me

then run back to you ex?

Take your fucking clothes off

please.

Are you terrified yet?

You are an object

to fiddle with, my exquisite

fetish. Sashay round room

sway hips strut. Sit.

Scoot down. Stay.

Bow your head.

Bend your knees.

Closer, show me

your most intimate

soggy swollen dark

down there. Put it

on the table.

Look into my eyes.

Good Girl.

Between you and me

this doesn’t feel like poetry anymore

hawking insults for king's amusement.

actuality I prefer flip-flop

sometimes tied, other times knotting.

Here’s the routine

She gets pissed off at me

And I say fuck off.

Later I realize how much I need her

Beg forgiveness offer anything

Just to crawl back into her arms.

As far as I can tell

You’re all a bunch of tidy

Pussies. No one wants to own up.

What is the matter with you?

Accidents happen.

You’re not safe here.

Pendulum swings

ditch gets deeper

trusting what we know not

cannot know.

Intelligence is delicate thread

Other times knotting.

Scoot down

A little bit more for me, please.

“If there is no god than what do you believe in?”

“Nothing.”

“How do you pray to nothing?”

“I don’t pray.”

“What do you do when everything turns horrible, and you’re loved ones are endangered?”

“I make plans.”

“What kind of plans?”

“Lunch, dinner.”

“But what if meals are not a consideration? Like if your loved one is anorexic bulimic?”

“I make other plans.”

“What kind of other plans?”

“Plans to make enough money to get free of people like you who ask too many questions.”

“Oh.”

I forgot what I was thinking. Maybe I was thinking about love and loss. It is nearly 3 am. She is long gone. Memory is the biggest slut of them all, lying, betraying, reinventing everything, making passion with anyone, laughing hysterically crying.

2012 Winter Solstice Aztec calendar end

Will humanity murderously turn on themselves

like in zombie movies

everyone waking with taste for blood in their mouths

then go quietly about their desperate day?

Will some sonic roar or rumbling rock

slam into our little solipsist planet?

Will rivers and oceans run deep red

And skies above darken with arctic ash

Will it merely be another hollow warning?

Forward to Saturday’s Christmas shopping

Mall filled with tired poor swarming masses

Dismissive of ancient miscalculation?

Santa Undone - Our Salon

Santa Undone - Our Salon

In Lieu of Abuse

In Lieu of Abuse

1

I have problems with letting go, moving on, losing people. Nothingness is recurring nightmare. It seems like events around me aren’t good, but I get used to them, then ground pulls from under me, and I’m supposed to adapt, which I do too slowly, and grow accustomed to not good situations getting worse, when ground pulls from under me again, and here I am in recurring nightmare, only it’s reality.

2

I watched exquisitely lovely girl picking her nose and eating boogers. Wow, I thought, this girl is kinky. What I mean by men are pigs, imagine old homeless lady tripping and falling on street, and her skirt flying up exposing naked vagina. What is the male hesitation quota?

3

So let’s just say, for argument’s sake, women are wiser tougher gender, and men are boorish dunces. Reasons for enduring patriarchy are fear, or personality weakness, or female longings for daddy worship. So let’s just say, for argument’s sake, I’ve just signed my own “Satanic Verses.” I hate quarreling. It’s not nearly as much fun as making-out. Up, down, up, down, I love you, miss you, love, love, love you, yes, I do. California is definitely due for another earthquake. My guess is two to three weeks. Didn’t the Giants win the World Series this year? Yup, my guess is two to three weeks.

4

Respect is directly linked to gratitude. Sometimes respect is easy to forget, mindless drifting easier, degrading life’s worth a breeze. Fuck. If I was a fish, swimming in a bowl, blowing bubbles, flapping fins, splashing around tank, trapped in cramped space, I think I’d go crazy, and bang my face against aquarium glass, smash my head to bits, floating to water’s surface.

5

Pretend you were never born, not a trace anywhere, and you have no idea what existence and consciousness mean, or anything, or nothing.

6

What resolve? Dance the dance, drift to sleep, dream neverland, nevermind, nevertheless endure recurring nightmare. Okay, let’s try again, make a plan, build a house, and leave all this negativity behind. Okay, okay, so I talk to myself, somewhat incessantly. I think obscene ill thoughts. I fantasize a woman tied to bed. Do you still want to make a plan and build a house? I asked my shrink, “Why did you become a psychiatrist? Did you originally intend to be a doctor in another field?” She replied, “I’ve always only wanted to be a psychiatrist.” I wonder why.

7

Man walks into a woman. He says, “It’s dark in here.” She says, “Maybe your eyes will adjust to the light, maybe not.” He stumbles out into night. The moon eclipses.